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She heard the voices of the trees
Swaying arms swept wide by breeze
Turning blades over the meadow
Brushing yellow folded leaves
Nature's song sang to her wonder
A tune she held within to ponder
Feeling sweet the breath of autumn
Knowing that it breathed beyond her
Sweeping out the present worry
A lightened heart rose high with fury
Soaring on this cleansing wind
With ne'er a thought nor want to hurry
There the rays swept golden, shining
Breaking through the clouds soft lining
Lighting up her face so thankful
All shall be in His own timing.

Looking into my face, she marveled at the miracle in her arms. Those small, pink toes that fanned out when they were tickled, and the anxiously gaping mouth that searched for her. The slow yawns and the tiny dimples nestled themselves in her memory.

I know this, not because I remember but because I held my own miracles birthed from that place of love. I felt it at our first hello, and that was when I knew how I never wanted to say goodbye.

Love clings like that grip that holds your hand before she gets on the bus to kindergarten. It grasps tight like the last embrace before he drives halfway across the country to attend college. It's that arm that rests in yours as you walk her down the aisle, and another one takes your place beside her.

It is risky to love. Love requires vulnerability, sacrifice, and honesty. It can be painful to do any one of those things, but the reward far outweighs the risk. So we say hello to love, and we all know that it is really ju…

I lost my cool in the twilight of the evening, and sent her away with the makings of her necklace minus the button that fell down the vent in the floor. She'd wanted me to fish it out, and as though I was certain it was forever banished between the construct of our walls I delayed the hunt until morning.

She howled her way into the next room over, and I knew I was hoarding some kindness. Sadly, I didn't care at the time.

An hour before, she was working steadily in her room for quite some time, looping each shell and spare button onto the string of floss. She wanted me to tie it up tight so she wouldn't lose one precious part of her creativity. I fumbled with it in the dark before the whole string came undone in the tragedy of a moment.

That was really the undoing of us both. She was devastated; I was frustrated and we both hollered out our displeasure.

I laid quiet in my bed wanting to hear her cries settle, as if the only thing that mattered wa…